


eight ways to say I love you

by brightsee



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Fluff, Future Fic, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-05
Updated: 2017-07-05
Packaged: 2018-11-23 16:41:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11406387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brightsee/pseuds/brightsee
Summary: Bucky has told Darcy he loves her in eight different ways, eight different times, in eight different situations. And only once does he hear those sweet words finally returned.





	eight ways to say I love you

**Author's Note:**

> oh hey there, uh so this is my first wintershock fic ever. I've had this idea for years but finally got around to writing it and actually liking the outcome. Hope y'all enjoy!

_eight ways to say I love you_

_by[R. Mckinley ](http://thoughtcatalog.com/r-mckinley/2012/12/8-ways-to-say-i-love-you/)_

 

  1. _"Spit it into her voicemail..."_



He stole Steve’s phone sometime before he was tugged away by Sharon, the phone weighing heavily in his hand just as the vodka flows heavily through his veins. Unlike Steve, Bucky can get drunk, mind-numbing drunk, so drunk that he can’t see nor think straight. It’s the kind of drunk he is now, phone in hand and ringing close to his ear.

He’s tucked into the corner between the double set of doors of the bar they’re currently residing in. When her voice flows through the phone, upbeat and happy as she tells whoever's calling to leave a message, Bucky feels himself sway a little, catching himself as he hears the beep.

“Darce,” he says quietly, voice a little slurred and he can taste the vodka in the back of his throat, the double shot downed for courage. “I know I don’ deserve ya, but I love ya anyway. All tha’ blood on my hands, damn…” he shakes his head trailing off. “Fuck,” he mutters. “I love ya, doll.”

The secondary beep cuts him off and Steve is there staring at him, shaking his head in disappointment. Bucky ducks his head, handing the cell phone back before slipping out of the bar and into the busy street, desperate to avoid his best friend. Steve and Sharon follow him back to the tower, careful to give him room, and he doesn’t even say goodnight, bedroom door firmly slamming closed behind him.

The next morning he wakes up with a hangover, tongue heavy and mouth dry. The headache is quickly fading but he feels dead to the world, barely remembers the events of the night before and how he got home. Bucky doesn’t even bother changing, just rolls out of bed and heads towards the common room for the good coffee and donuts.

He spots Darcy pouring herself a cup of coffee and smiles as he enters the room. When she greets him, it’s then that he remembers a certain phone call from the night before, slurring into Steve’s phone and declaring his love for her. She makes small talk, pours him a cup of coffee before giving him a salute and leaves for work.

Bucky walks around the tower for the next few days with a heavy gut, waiting for the other shoe to drop and Darcy to mention the phone call.

She never does.

 

  1. _“Sigh it into her mouth…”_



He’s not sure how he’s got Darcy pinned up against him, hand low on her back, his mouth working over hers. It’s all teeth and tongue, hot and heavy. Her grip is tight on his hair, tugging him impossibly closer. He’s pretty sure this is heaven.

Bucky sighs it, lips barely moving, between wet kisses, the feeling of her body against his, her lips and hands on his, it’s all too much. “I love you,” he breathes between kisses, so quietly he’s not even sure Darcy hears him.

He’s not even sure at this point if he’s said it himself. Possibly it wasn’t a declaration of love, just exhalation of everything that is building up between them, ecstasy of finally, finally kissing the woman of his dreams, the woman he loves.

Eventually, he pulls himself away from her.

He needs to do this right.

 

  1. _“Buy her flowers…”_



Bucky buys her flowers, then a box of chocolates, and then this little teddy bear because he’s nervous and doesn’t know how to properly prepare for a date. He’s out of century, the customs of modern day so foreign to him. Wooing a woman, that’s the easy part, or it used to be, but Bucky feels so out of his element as he knocks on Darcy’s door with flowers, chocolate, and a teddy bear in his arms.

He takes her to a nice restaurant, a suggestion from Tony, and Bucky tugs at his tie and Darcy scans the room nervously. They look out of place, younger than the average patron, and neither knew how to read the menu. Darcy orders the cheapest wine and both just guessed at an entree, the entire dining experience out of their depth.

Darcy tries to fill the silence. Bucky sighs, too nervous to actually throw words together, and it feels like he has this huge speech built up for her. These actions are better suited for a proposal, not the confession that is on the tip of his tongue.

All his nervous energy amounts to Bucky knocking his glass of wine off the table, sending Darcy into a fit of giggles. Bucky’s sure he’s never heard anything sweeter. He feels heat rise up his neck, ducks away from her gaze, because he was trying to play this cool, but he’s just a mess.

“Want to get out of here?” Darcy suggests, reaching across the table for his hand.

Bucky eyes her soft hand on his metal one and nods. “I know a good burger joint just around the corner.”

Darcy practically beams, “perfect.”

He throws a hundred dollar bill onto the table and they dash out of the restaurant and down the street. Darcy is laughing hysterically. The burger joint, just this little hole in the wall is perfect. It sets Bucky right at ease, Darcy releases the tension in her shoulders, and this was the date that he should have planned from the beginning.

Everything those romantic comedies told him to do was a lie.

Darcy was a simple woman.

Bucky was pretty sure he couldn’t love her more for that.   

 

  1. _“Whisper it into her hair in the middle of the night…”_



Bucky counts her breaths, a calming technique he had found on their first night together weeks ago. She didn’t want him to go and he couldn’t drag himself away from her even if he tried. He didn’t sleep, didn’t trust himself yet, but he could lay beside her, hold her close, and whisper everything he’s too scared to say while she’s awake.

He always makes sure she’s asleep, her breathing shallow, and he tries to match his own breaths to hers. He nuzzles her hair, rose scented and soft. Most nights he can’t keep it to himself, so overcome by his feelings, that he whispers it into her hair, into the quiet of the room.

“I love you, Darce, so goddamn much it scares me,” he whispers, dropping a kiss to her bare shoulder.

She shifts, rolling over and nuzzling her nose into the space where his neck and shoulder meet. Bucky holds his breath, still as a rock, hoping she didn’t hear his confession. He closes his eyes, so if she woke he would later blame the confession on sleep talking.

She doesn’t wake, he holds onto her just a little bit tighter before he tears himself away and retreats to his own bed.  

 

  1. _“Blurt it out in the middle of an impromptu dance party in the kitchen…”_



Bucky is trying to cook them dinner, standing at the stove and stirring the pasta sauce, just like his Ma taught him, but Darcy, as always has other plans. One of her favourite playlists sounding through the apartment, the one that always has her dancing. Darcy slides up behind him and he can feel her hips moving, hands wandering up and down his chest.

“Come on, Buck, let’s dance,” she purrs into his ear, tugging him away from the stove.

He looks over his shoulder at her. “Can’t, doll, gotta watch the sauce or it’ll burn.”

Darcy whines, “who cares about the sauce, I wanna dance with my boyfriend!”

She’s giving him her pouty look, wide blue eyes and biting her bottom lip, and Bucky feels himself give in almost immediately. He pulls the pan off the stove and sets it aside for later, allowing Darcy to pull him away from the kitchen and into the living room where there’s more room.

The song turns upbeat and Darcy jumps up and down, the song one of her favourites. Bucky lets out a laugh at her pure joy, shaking his head. “I love you.” He freezes, realizes what he’s just said. He’s quick, pulls her into him, so they’re now dancing together, and tacks on: “when we do this.”

Darcy smiles up at him, pulling him into some ridiculous dance moves that has him laughing. It’s always like this with her, she has a way of pulling him out of himself, gets him laughing again, not so serious, like he’s not a recovering assassin. The dance through a few more songs, most upbeat but there’s a slow one added in there, more for him, and he makes sure to hold her extra close.

Bucky’s pretty sure he feels her eyes on him the rest of the night but he brushes it off, mad at himself for his loose lips. When he kisses her goodnight after dinner, claiming an early meeting to get out of staying the night, he feels guilt for lying to her but more than anything he’s beating himself up.

Months together and he’s loved her since the moment they met, Bucky’s feeling his resolve slip around her, unable to keep his professions of love to himself. But he’ll do it, out of fear of losing the woman he loves.   

 

  1. _“Write her a letter…”_



Bucky’s leaving for a six week mission without any contact to Darcy so he decides to write a letter. He puts his heart into it, saying everything he’s never said: all his hopes and fears, angst ridden thoughts of losing her, but most importantly all the ways he loves her. It takes him a better part of a day to write the thing, leaving the delivery to the last minute before he leaves.

He ponders on the perfect place for her to find it. Her pillow? So she’ll find it right before bed. In her coat pocket? But the fall weather is unusually warm and it’s not likely she’ll find it. He throws it away in her trash can, giving up, and also out of time to find the perfect place.

Steve calls him and he rushes out of Darcy’s apartment, to go bag in bag, the image of the crumpled letter the only thing on his mind. He sees his slanted cursive on the front of the letter, Darcy’s name in black pen standing out from the white envelope. He’s not sure if he wants her to read it, to know everything that he’s thought but hasn’t had the courage to say.

The moment he steps onto the quinjet he forgets all thoughts of the stupid letter, already in mission mode.  

 

  1. _“Wait until something terrible has happened…”_



They’re walking home from lunch when they're about to cross the road back to the tower, her hand gripped loosely in his, Darcy’s free hand waving through the air as she rants about her work. Bucky sees the car out of the corner of his eye, curses himself for not putting himself between Darcy and the oncoming traffic. They had the right of way but the oncoming car isn’t slowing down, appearing to roll right into his right hand turn.

Bucky pulls Darcy back onto the sidewalk, the car rolling past them. He’s pretty sure every single moment of his time spent with Darcy flashes through his eyes, everything from the past and expanding into the future. The future he almost lost if he didn’t act, the car plowing into him and Darcy. The panic strikes him and then the anger, letting go of her hand cursing at the shitty cab drivers in New York City.    

Darcy tugs on his shirt, pulls his attention away from the cab driver and onto her. He’s quick on her, closing the distance and taking her head between his hands, kissing her once, twice, three times before pulling back. Darcy looks a little unsteady, holds onto Bucky as an anchor.

He feels his hands tremble, the fear more prominent, terrified of living without her. He needs her to know.

“I love you, Darcy,” he says breathlessly. “I’ve probably loved you from the first time we met when you were cursing over the damn coffee maker for making your coffee too slow. I’ve loved you every moment since. I can’t imagine a day without you, without loving you. I’m tired of hiding it.”

Darcy laughs, eyes watering, closing the distance and kisses him.

 

  1. _“Say it deliberately…”_



Once he tells her he can’t stop saying it. The words flow off his lips, always a smile, because he loves this woman so damn much. He tells her over breakfast, before she’s brushed her hair and scarfing down coffee between spoonfuls of fruit loops. He tells her as they get ready for bed, locking eyes in the mirror as they brush their teeth, the most domestic thing.

He makes sure that she knows he loves her, before she goes to work, before bed, before and after missions. He says it with conviction, doesn’t water it down, saying he might or he thinks, he knows he loves her. He tells her with confidence, repeats it like it’s a mantra.

Everytime he looks her in the eyes, says “I love you” and prays that one day, with his heart thumping hard in his chest, that she’ll turn to him and return the sentiments.

The first time he hears her say it, they’re watching a movie, with Darcy tucked up against his side, playing with his metal hand which was wrapped around her. He can’t help but watch her, fingers roaming over the metal surface, playing with the metal fingers, squeezing and testing them. It’s a habit of hers, when she’s distracted or thinking too hard on something.

She looks up at him, as if she had felt her watching, her eyes a magnificent blue, so honest and pure. A small smile tugs at her ruby lips, the sight still manages to take his breath away.

“I love you, James Barnes, every part of you,” she says, so simply and beautiful, as she squeezes his metal hand.

Bucky quirks a brow, “yeah?”

Darcy laughs, “yeah, you big doofus.” She smiles. “I love you and I’m sorry it took me so long.”

“Doesn’t matter how long it takes, pretty sure that’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard, doll,” he says.

“What? I love you?”

Bucky laughs, “yeah, sweetheart, pretty sure I can die a happy man now.”

Darcy pokes him in the side, “don’t you dare, we still got our whole lives ahead of us.”

“Our whole lives, huh?”

Darcy blushes, “if you’ll have me?”

Bucky pulls her so she’s straddling him, her head dropping so their foreheads touch. “You ain’t going anywhere.”

Darcy kisses him and Bucky whispers the words again and again in her lips, into her skin, repeating it for all the times he’s tried to hide it. There are eight ways to say I love you and James Barnes had found all of them, but he settled on the eighth way, to say it with passion, unhindered, without fear.

Yeah, James Barnes loves Darcy Lewis and he’s not afraid to say it anymore.   

**Author's Note:**

> how was it? any thoughts/feelings?


End file.
